The author, in brand new slacks, shirt and shoes, is bid adieu by Mom and little sister as he heads out the door for his first day of school on Sept. 7, 1960. The photo, taken by Mike Shalhoup, was used on the cover of a Telegraph back-to-school edition in 1997.

I never imagined that one day school kids would date their papers August-something on the first three or four days of school.

Even more unimaginable, being in a family that vacationed during the last two weeks of August since forever, was seeing “first day of school” appearing on the calendar days ahead of Labor Day.

Well, despite my strenuous objections that apparently went unheard, or at least unheeded, both things happened, so I resigned myself to getting used to it.

True, I haven’t personally experienced a “first day of school” for, well, quite a few years, and when I did, I never set foot on those freshly-waxed floors before Labor Day.

That, and having not been involved in parenting school-age kids, may lead one to wonder, “what’s this guy’s hangup about the first day of school?”

A special "Back-to-School Section" appeared in the Nashua Telegraph on Aug. 24, 1960, with a headline that announced schools would open on Sept. 7, which also happened to be the author's first day of first grade.

Maybe it stems from my disdain of anything that tends to shorten summer, by far my favorite season and the one that zips by way too fast, especially in these parts.

Now, however, all I can do is shake my head when I consider how truly insignificant and trivial my little hangup is when compared to the chaos, constant worry and confusion that has been on the “first day of school radar” for weeks now, as parents strive to find just the right balance of normalcy and safety for their kids.

And to think I was miffed over pre-Labor Day start dates.

I wonder, as I’m sure many fellow baby boomers do these days, just how I would have reacted had this crisis reared its ugly head during my idyllic days at Mt. Pleasant.

Actually, what would any of us – kids, teachers, parents, city and school leaders – have done in a pre-computer world? Would “remote learning” mean couriers in spacesuits delivering books and reports from kids’ homes to their teachers and back again?

Dean Shalhoup

Longtime reporter, columnist and photographer, is back doing what he does best ñ chronicling the people and history of Nashua. Reaching 40 years with The Telegraph in September, Deanís insights have a large, appreciative following.

I wonder a lot less about what would have happened had it struck during my Spring Street Junior High and Nashua High years – I’m pretty sure I would have opted for safety, meaning I would have stayed “safely” away from school – and been justified in doing so.

This baby boomer’s first day of school – not counting kindergarten, which in those days were mainly church-based programs rather than part of grade schools – was Wednesday, Sept. 7, 1960, and I have a couple vague memories of being led by the hand, presumably by Mom, through the front door of Mt. Pleasant school, up a few stairs and into a large room where a bunch of other kids my age were gathering, moms or dads in tow.

Enrollment in all of Nashua’s public schools for the 1960-61 school year was 5,650, an increase of 300 kids over the previous year, a Telegraph story tells me.

Dual sessions for junior high kids (it would be a couple decades before they were called middle school kids) were in effect as we still had just the one junior high, my alma mater over on Spring Street.

It was no wonder they had to have dual sessions: Spring Street’s enrollment was a couple hundred kids more than Nashua High’s, which was a fairly comfortable 1,250, then-principal Patrick J. Morley told The Telegraph.

Those facts and figures and more were in the Telegraph’s special Back-to-School section that was in the paper on Aug. 24, a couple of weeks ahead of the first day of school.

One of the stories noted that the “back-to-school, two-week special emphasis on the Nashua stores” was about to get underway, and it directed readers to the many ads throughout the section providing “ideas for shoppers” and helping kids and parents “plan their shopping tour in advance.”

See if this little anecdote doesn’t bring back a few memories: “The younger fry will be selecting their rosy apples for the teacher, and the older pupils will be planning the important choice of what to wear on ‘the first day of school.'”

We boomers of course remember doing all our shopping in downtown Nashua in that pre-mall, pre-big box era, and we seemed to fare just fine, thank you, in finding everything we needed or wanted in those several blocks of family-owned retail stores.

But I was astounded when, looking through that section, I came across the list of downtown merchants that participated in one way or another in the pre-first-day-of-school “special emphasis on the Nashua stores.”

The list totaled nearly 60 stores, ranging from supermarkets (Champagne’s, A&P, First National, 20th Century) and pharmacies (Wingate’s, Shapiro’s, Economy Drug) to florists (Collins, Fortin the Florist, Smith’s) and clothing and accessories shops too numerous to list.

So-called “specialty” shops listed include Cheddie’s Doughnuts, Camera Land (it morphed into Cameraland at some point), Fanny Farmer candy, House of Hobbies, Wm. L. Nutting Inc. (later Nutting’s Music, now Darrell’s Music Hall), among others.

Then there are the ones seared into baby boomers’ memories: Woolworth’s, Speare’s, W. T. Grant, Enterprise, Kennedy’s, J. J. Newberry, Philip Morris, Bargain Outlet, Miller’s, Bergeron’s, C.H. Avery, Avard’s, Morey’s, Marsh Parsons, The Smart Shop, Bell Shops, Amy’s Fashions – goodness, that’s barely halfway through the list.

Lincoln’s, meanwhile, wasn’t on the list, but did run some ads, announcing a “store-wide sale” featuring “big and little sister look-alike dresses.” I don’t know, but I’m quite sure the girls who bought them went to different schools.

Marsh Parsons had a big sale geared more toward women than school kids, offering “sheer support hosiery for housewives, mothers-to-be, working women, and women with varicose veins.”

Ah, the days of $2 and $3 sport shirts and $4 and up sweaters and sport coats under $10. In ’60, Lynch’s had ’em.

One of the few stores I don’t recall is Athena’s, which, according to its ad, was at 210 Main St., and announced its convenient lay-away plan in the ad. Lay-away was once all the rage; you simply picked out your purchases, gave them to someone behind the counter, paid what you could, then came back and made payments until they were all paid for. Kind of laughable in today’s “swipe, tap or insert” your card world, but shoppers loved it.

As for shoes, Scontsas and Sons, the precursor to today’s Scontsas Fine Jewelry and Home Decor run by Philip and Amalia Scontsas, suggested repairing your shoes rather than buy a new pair.

“There’s Still Plenty of Wear in Those Old Shoes!” their ads read.

Finally, I now know where Mom and Pop bought my first lunch box, thanks to the ad that the Enterprise store ran in the Telegraph.

It announced a sale of “matching lunch kits with matching vacuum bottles,” those fairly flimsy but pretty colorful and practical metal boxes that had a v-shaped clasp that held in place your vacuum bottle – what we called a Thermos.

They used as an example in the ad their Aladdin-themed lunch box – the same one I received with my back-to-school stuff.

To today’s kids, parents and teachers: Hang in there; hopefully the worst is over.

Dean Shalhoup’s column appears weekly in The Sunday Telegraph. He may be reached at 594-1256 or dshalhoup@nashuatelegraph.com.

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